


Worst Potions Lesson Ever

by KAD4994



Series: Drarropoly [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Drarropoly: A Drarry Game/Fest, Embarrassment, Fifth Year, Fluff, M/M, Snape is Mean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-26 05:00:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16674970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KAD4994/pseuds/KAD4994
Summary: Game position: Flourish and BottsWord count: 481Prompt: I could read for you if you want.Summary: My mind came up with this with the prompt as I could see Snape being the teacher that reads notes aloud.





	Worst Potions Lesson Ever

This had to be the worst Potions lesson he had ever had. Which, considering Harry had had to suffer through 4 years of potions with Snape so far, that was saying a lot.

It had started off in the same way most of his potion lessons did, abysmally. Harry had been struggling to stir his concoction, that sadly resembled a grey sludgy gruel and not the shimmering silver the textbook alleged that it should look like at this point. Sweat dripping from his brow, anger rising at the mounting barbs from his teacher on his pathetic abilities, Harry barely registered the missive that had been tossed in his direction by his (now former) best friend. 

Harry had always had rotten luck, a streak that had seemed to not have diminished, for though he had not paid any attention to the note scrawled on scrap parchment, his bat like professor had noticed, swooping in before Harry could even react.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” His professor began with malicious glee. “It seems class, that Potter thinks he doesn’t need to practice his potions and would rather write notes to his chums.”

“Professor, I didn’t write…” Harry began, alarmed by the sadistic smirk playing on the potion master’s lips. 

“Silence!” Snape cut him off sharply, “Let’s see. Hmmm well isn’t this interesting class? I could read for you, if you want?”

The Slytherins looked as though all their Christmas wishes had been granted at once, shooting the professor simpering smiles, practically tasting their enemy’s vulnerability.

“It begins in rather shoddy handwriting I must say:

‘Mate- are you sure you’re alright and don’t need to get checked out for imperio or something? It’s one thing to have been shouting out his name in your sleep, but actually saying the ferret is fit?’”

Silence reigned for roughly five seconds before an eruption of jeers exploded. 

Pockets of sniggering from the Slytherin side of the classroom could be heard, even the Gryffindors were whispering in hushed tones. “Harry fancies Malfoy?” The question was thrown excitedly from student to student and all Harry could do was flush and wish Voldemort had killed him.

After an agonisingly long time the bell rang and Harry dashed out of his seat, pelting his way into the corridor. He was oblivious to the blonde that practically chased him, so caught up in his embarrassment and turmoil.

The brunette had just finished catching his breath when the Slytherin prince sidled up smugly.

“So you fancy me Potter?” He drawled, a pleased smile quirking his lips.

“No! The shouting your name was only because I was having nightmares about your face!” 

Malfoy tutted, “I think not, after all I’ve got it on good authority you think I’m fit.” 

“Erm.. uh…err?”

“So articulate, it’s kind of cute.” Malfoy winked as he sauntered away.


End file.
